Thursday Night Lights
by sniffles31
Summary: Gotham University. Religion: Football. Tradition: Drunken Thursdays. How does one navigate through school, sports, social life, Greek life, while being expected to consume a moderate amount of cheap alcohol? JL in college. Featuring multiple pairings with focus on BMWW. No own, no sue.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Dos Equis

Diana unceremoniously plopped down the futon in her dorm room after a particularly grueling 8am class. _Who's got two thumbs and was dumb enough to decide to take ancient Greek at 8am three days a week? This gal!_ Being half-Greek only helped so much. She groaned silently and massaged her still throbbing temples, evidence of a typical Thursday night at the prestigious Gotham University was taking a toll on the 19-years-old.

As the headache increased in intensity, her unjustified outrage at Shayera for dragging her downtown also mounted upwards. Okay so "dragging" might have been an overstatement. Her roommate was trying unsuccessfully and when the corner of lips curled upwards mischievously.

"Bruce will be at Flan's."

That got Diana's attention. Her head popped up from behind the laptop screen, only to lower again in careful consideration. Flan's was an Irish bar not seven minutes from the main campus with cheap drinks and practically nonexistent carding culture. Well it was Gotham City. People had a lot of shadier activities to worry about than college kids getting drunk. It still amazed Diana how GU had never fallen below its current 15th slot in every "Best College in America" list there was, with freshmen to super-seniors getting shit faced Thursday to Saturday.

And Bruce was, well, a lot more complicated than Flan's.

"Come on Di!" Shay was practically begging her at this point. "I want to see John downtown but I can't go alone! Just be the amazing, wonderful best friend that you are and come to Flan's with me. I will buy you ice mochas for the rest of the week."

Shayera watched as Diana's lips pressed into thin lines before she exhaled with defeat. The redhead squealed with joy, knowing she had won, again. Guilt tripping Diana never failed. The girl was too nice to her friends for her own good. A fleeting thought about karma passed through before she pushed it asides and threw a white sundress in Diana's direction.

A mere fifteen minutes and a soft application of makeup later, the pair was already making their way downtown. Flan's was overcrowded as always. It smelled of cheap beer, floor was sticky with spilled drinks and god knew what else. Green fluorescent light was bouncing off tipsy familiar faces. Diana smirked to herself, knowing she could not possibly imagine a more stereotypical college scenario in her mind.

Shayera grabbed her wrist and quickly made a bee line to the bar.

"Hey Shay! Hey Di!" The bartender enthusiastically greeted them, blatantly ignoring his other customers to serve the girls first.

"Wallace West! Just the man I wanted to see." Shayera grinned while Diana smiled warmly at the bartender. He was another reason Flan's was their favorite bar. Wally was a track star by day, college bartender by night, and Diana's peer-mentee. After she had helped him pass Spanish last semester and basically keep his athletic scholarship, Wally dramatically swore his eternal gratitude to her in the forms of his friendship and one dollar drinks at Flan's for forever.

"Well not _forever_. Just as long as I work there. And when my manager's not breathing down my back for giving alcohol away for basically free." He sheepishly added. She had laughed and replied with "I'll take what I can get."

"One Guinness for me and a Dos Equis for the fair lady, por favor." Shayera ordered while leaning over to hand him two dollars. Wally returned quickly with the cold brews and amusingly coerced them into promising they would let him know when they would leave, holding the beers as hostages.

"How did you know I switched to Dos Equis?" Before last week, her drink of choice was the basic vodka cranberry. Until a certain someone introduced her to the brew endorsed by allegedly 'The most interesting man in the world.'

The redhead gave her a ' _Who do you think I am?'_ look before answering, "Girl please, we basically spend every waking hour together."

Diana grinned and clinked bottle with her roommate, "Thank God for that sister." Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw tall, dark, and handsome approaching.

"John Stewart, coming up behind you," Diana casually mentioned. Shay gave a barely there nod in recognition. John and she had been engaged in an interesting, mildly weird, semi-sexual relationship since before Christmas. Both were too stubborn to yield to feelings and labels, therefore silently refusing to get into a relationship. The similar mindsets ironically proved that they were perfect for each other. That, and John was one of the precious few individuals in the world who can handle Shayera's rather _explosive_ personality.

"Ladies, fancy meeting you here," the man smoothly offered. His smile, however, was genuine. And designed to make hearts melt. White sparkling teeth and piercing green eyes stand out against his delicious skin tone. All that ROTC disciplines and workouts had done wonders to the taut muscles underneath his plain white tee.

Shayera feigned surprise and whirled around, "Johnny boy, didn't see you there," giving him her most seductive smirk. Diana knew better and gave the not-couple some space, babbling some nonsense about going to say hi to an imaginary friend. Armed with her beer, Diana pushed off the bar stool and joined the fray.

She smiled in delight when she saw an arm enthusiastically waving not ten feet away. Sweet Lois Lane to the rescue. Diana gave the violet-eyed beauty a tight hug as greeting.

"Oh my god, Diana, look at you!"

Her stomach tightened in fear. Was there something wrong with her clothes? Did she have something on her face? Was there a gross, oozing lump she didn't know about out on display?

"Why? What's wrong?"

Lois laughed as she saw Diana's eyes widened in terror. The girl was so clueless sometimes.

"I meant that as a compliment! This dress is _perfect_ on you," the petite beauty emphasized.

Diana breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Lois. She didn't think much of it, just the fact that the dress was little tight. It was Shayera's after all, who was a good four inches shorter than her slightly towering 5-foot-10 height. Lois wasn't so clueless. The thin material hugged Diana's ungodly curves in all the right places. A single slit to her mid-thigh showed off an endless, shapely leg. If Diana wasn't so modest, she would have noticed every hungry stare and envious glance casted her way.

"What's your plan for the weekend?" Diana asked, taking a sip of her beer.

Lois gave an exasperated sigh, "Ugh I have to do an interview with Clark Kent at 8am on Saturday for the school paper. It was the only time he didn't have football practice. 8am Diana, that's basically torture."

"You poor thing. Hey you're the first to interview our mysterious 5-star linebacker though. That's something!"

It was true. Clark Kent was the most sought-after high school player since he was sixteen. It was honestly unfair for the other kids to have to play against an immovable 6-foot-5 mountain of muscle. He was also famously humble and private, which meant he didn't do interviews. Colleges went crazy trying to recruit the small-town farm boy and GU finally landed him, only after the new quarterback had committed.

Lois downed her drink and replied, "I know I know. I keep reminding myself that the interview would look great for my portfolio. And seeing as I can't, well _shouldn't,_ show up hungover, I'm going to make up for lost time right now. Want something?" She gestured to the bar.

Diana raised her half full Dos Equis and smiled, "I'm good, thanks though."

"Your loss. Be right back," Lois said as she disappeared into the crowd. It was mere seconds before a classmate came up and chatted with Diana.

In a corner of the bar, a dark hair man stood with his hand stuffed in a pocket, the other gripping his beer probably a little tighter than necessary as he watched the guy glided to her side. He had been waiting for that Lane girl to leave, only to have his window stolen by an opportunistic dick.

 _Why the hell does she have to be so popular?_ Bruce Wayne wondered, mindlessly drinking the rest of his beer.

"Stare any harder and the boy's gonna have holes in his head."

Bruce glared at Wally at that quip. The redhead raised his hands defensively, "Just trying to help."

Bruce said nothing, just laid down a five for a refill, refusing to accept free drinks. Wally needed the money much more than he did.

"Aw you guys even drink the same thing," the bartender grinned mockingly at Bruce's empty Dos Equis. Another glare.

"Dude just _talk_ to her. She's the nicest. I should know." Wally said a little proudly. He found his friend's behaviors extremely amusing. Bruce wasn't short on lady suitors; he was _the_ quarterback of the Gotham University Knights after all. Wally glanced around and notice half the bar looking and pointing at Bruce, in awe from the guys, and hunger from the girls.

 _Calm your libido kids!_ Some females, and well, males too, look like they would pounce on him right then and there. That would be a sight to see. Wally smiled to himself at the thought.

"Nope, God forbid Bruce Wayne talking to someone that doesn't want to throw herself at him. Ohmygod, is _that_ why you like her? Because she's the one soul on campus that doesn't care about you?" Wally gasped theatrically.

"No!" Bruce denied immediately, a little too defensively, only to be met with a raised auburn eyebrow and a smirk. Wally was starting to know him well enough to push his buttons. _Shit_.

Then a voice made him jump, _her_ voice. He didn't jump. He was a Wayne. "Another please Mr. West."

She watched as Wally disappeared to the other side of the bar before smiling warmly at the quarterback. "Hey." She offered simply, sitting down next to him, elbows grazing the wet bar top. "Don't you have practice in the morning?"

The initial shock had subsided as he slipped into his charismatic self. "I do, but who sleeps these days?" A wink. An eye roll.

He studied her profile as they waited for the drinks. She was absolutely gorgeous. Piercing azure eyes framed by dark, wispy lashes. Naturally tan, glowing skin thanks to her Mediterranean heritage. Her silky hair was braided loosely, cascading down her left shoulder like a stream of ebony. His hand longed to tuck a curly strand behind her ear so he could see more of her.

"There we are, a Dos Equis couple." Wally returned and handed a beer to each of them. The slightest pink stole over her beautiful feature at the 'couple' mention, which pushed him into a slight state of euphoria. _She liked him, too!_ His cool façade never faltered and he smiled that oh-so-famous-Bruce-Wayne smile.

"Glad to see you've taken up my recommendation."

"Well… uh… it's cheap." She awkwardly explained. Bruce chuckled quietly, knowing full well she could get any drink for virtually free. The last time they were both drinking this beer was at his fraternity's Spring party a week ago, which had ended in them drunkenly making out in his room. He could still feel her full lips, her soft yet athletic body beneath him. _Stop it._ Bruce chided himself mentally. Not much happened after anyway, seeing as she fell asleep when he took a quick bathroom break. And Bruce Wayne, ever the gentleman, tucked her in and settled on the couch, albeit a little disappointingly.

She woke before he did the next morning, and quietly left the perimeter without a single soul noticing. Everyone, thankfully, was still passed out drunk. The trek back to her dorm wasn't the walk of shame exactly. She wasn't ashamed, maybe slightly embarrassed that she fell asleep. What made her leave without even saying goodbye was the fear of people finding out about their favorite quarterback's latest hookup. Because that was what girls were reduced to, another notch on his bed post for the entire campus to discuss. Some willingly and proudly went after that title; Diana couldn't want anything less to do with it.

There was only one problem. She actually liked the boy.

For the next couple of days, the two texted back and forth briefly about hanging out again. Unfortunately, his insane practice schedule and her demanding class load and social life didn't leave much room for compromise. Diana's hesitation didn't exactly help either.

Suddenly his hand was on her arm, her head turned so fast she could have gotten whiplashed. "Hey listen," sincerity in his baritone voice, "there's this thing coming up and …"

He was rudely cut off by three girls basically squealing his name and asking for a picture. Diana quickly slipped out of his hold and made her way to the door. She instantly missed the contact of his warm, calloused hand.

 _Goddammit!_ Bruce shot out of his seat but he was surrounded. Losing his temper at fans in a crowded bar was out of the question, so he swallowed his anger and posed for the picture. A hand was grazing dangerously close to his well-defined backside. Another stupid Instagram post. How he loathed social media at that moment.

Author's note: Hello friends! I've always liked the idea of JL in college but have never really encountered a story that was good or believable enough. So I decided to write my own! It's loosely based on my own college experience where football, academia and Greek life reigned. I really don't know where the story will ultimately lead as I'm just making it up as I go. The only thing I'm sure of is that it will be fun, light, and will explore American college life in depth. Any recommendation or constructive criticism is very welcomed.

And if you're wondering "Why Dos Equis?" Well, it's my favorite beer, and it's super cheap! 10/10 would recommend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Birds and Butterflies**

Shayera Hol was busy lamenting about Macroeconomics to her not-boyfriend when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Shay, mind if we go somewhere else?" Her roommate smiled sweetly, but the smile did not reach her blue eyes. Something told the Criminology major there was gossip to be unfolded.

"Of course, where do you wanna go? Home?"

"No no, just anywhere else. It's getting a little too claustrophobic for my taste."

Shayera glanced around. Sure, Flan's was absolutely packed and smelled of sweat and sexual desperation, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Except for a lone gorgeous male specimen struggling to get through the crowd from the other side of the bar. _Oh, right._

"You're right. Let's bust this joint. Sorry John, you don't mind do you?" Before the stunned young man could even answer, Shayera was already hustling for exit, gripping Diana's hand tightly.

The cool breeze was a welcome change from the overheated bar. Downtown Gotham was twinkling with street lights and waves of people filtering in and out of restaurants and bars. The city was positively alive. Diana breathed a sigh of relief, welcoming a rush of oxygen her body desperately needed. She hooked an arm around her roommate's and rested her cheek against Shayera's head.

"Thanks, babe. I know you wanted to stay with John but…"

"But, nothing. He was getting a little too comfortable anyway. Gotta keep the man on his toes!" The redhead laughed infectiously as the pair walked down the crowded street.

"However, I'm guessing the reason for your timely exit had something to do with a certain dashing quarterback?"

She watched as her bestfriend groaned and slowly exhaled, seemingly in frustration. Boys had never been troubling to Diana. She was an olive skin, half-Greek goddess. Males just fell at her feet, thankfully Diana had a knack for choosing the good ones. Shayera remembered the last boyfriend, Steve Trevor, fondly. Diana and he had been high school sweethearts, only to break up when she went to GU and he to the Air Force Academy.

"I don't know, dude. I'm not sure if I actually like him, or like him just because of who he is. Maybe he just wants to hook up? And he's always surrounded by girls who would _literally_ tear their clothes off for him." Diana sighed, "I just don't know."

Shayera scoffed, "Okay, first of all, everybody wants to hook up with you. Secondly, from what John told me, the kid's not half as bad as people painted him out to be. And I would trust Wayne's pledge brother more than I would some freshman girl who threw her panties at him." Diana burst out laughing, remembering the incident last semester when a certain article of clothing landed on the quarterback during the football team's march to the stadium. It had made headlines everywhere; and Bruce's startled expression went viral and was turned into several internet memes.

Successful in lifting Diana's spirits, Shayera grinned and pulled her inside 1920's, another college student oriented establishment with Prohibition Era décor.

"That's enough boy talk for tonight. Let's get some shots because, say it with me here, ..." They said in unison, "… Thursdays are for the girls." They giggled and headed for the bar. The rest of the night was subsequently drowned in laughter and an immoderate amount of Don Julio.

Thursdays were for the girls alright. Fridays, not so much. Diana glanced around the dorm room, desperate to find some Advil.

"It's on my desk," a voice croaked from above the lofted bed. Diana reluctantly got up from the cream color futon and grabbed the bottle, two for herself, and two for the roommate. Shayera didn't even bother sitting up or asking for any. She simply dangled her arm down the side of the bed, palm open, only closing when she felt Diana's fingers grazing and disposing two small pills.

"Get up Shay, we need to get actual sustenance if we're gonna beat this bitch of a hangover." Diana gulped down the painkillers before giving Shayera the water bottle. And like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, tousled flame hair emerged from underneath the fluffy grey blanket. A lot less majestic, but just as revitalizing.

"Am I dead yet? Has the Tequila God claimed another victim?" Shayera whispered through half-lidded eyes, wincing at the sound of her own voice. _Why the hell is it so bright in here? Gonna need even blacker blackout curtains._

"I feel your pain sister. Just be glad you didn't have an 8am. Now come on, I want to get to Marsten before they stop serving breakfast food."

They got their egg orders in fifteen minutes before the omelet bar closed for the day. Diana leaned against the stainless-steel counter and glanced around Marsten Dining Commons. The hall was enormous, ordained with wooden beams and columns supporting the oval-shaped ceiling. All the furniture was made from the same caramel color woods, shining underneath the sunlight pouring in from giant French windows. In short, Marsten Hall looked like it belonged in Harry Potter, sans the cooking and serving equipment only modern technology could offer. Diana had always wondered how much money a structure like this one would cost.

Shayera grabbed both their plates and thanked the student worker who had graciously blessed them with saliva-inducing omelets. The girls settled down in spot by the window and began eating in comfortable silence, not before Shayera quickly took a picture of Diana and the food for her Snapchat.

"Hey check it, Shay and Diana are here, too." John Stewart showed Bruce the picture Shayera just sent as they waited in line for grilled chicken. John almost burst out laughing at the way his friend's eyes balked at the phone. He had to admit, Diana was a very attractive girl. Even in a hoodie and no makeup, she was wearing a dazzling smile. It certainly dazzled Bruce. John would much rather see the photographer than the subject though. Then an idea sparked in his mind.

"Why don't we join them?" _Two birds with one stone,_ the young man proudly commended himself.

A moment of silence. "Come on, I'm tired of your ugly face. Let's hang out with some girls." John nudged.

"Fine." Bruce chuckled, acquiescing.

Diana pulled out her phone and stared filming Shayera groaning in pain with her cheek on the table, her survival state to be debated.

"Don't you dare put that on social media," a pair of bloodshot jade eyes glared at Diana's grinning face.

"Oh come on, I'm just proving that even the great Shayera Hol succumbs to tequila."

A bemused male voice rang behind Diana, "I agree." She turned around to see John and Bruce standing there, both dashing, no worse for the wear. John was clad in his ROTC uniform, while the residential quarterback was wearing a Nikes track suit, in the signature GU Knights black and gold. Diana suddenly felt very conscious about her pajamas-like get up, and Shay in her actual sleepwear. _Shit_ , she did not expect to see him again so soon.

Shayera apparently did not share her roommate's hesitation. Her face was still on the table surface, turning just an inch to gesture ' _sit down.'_ The boys followed her silent order and sat opposite each other, Bruce next to Diana, perhaps a little too close considering his formidable frame.

"Damn girl, what happened to you?" John frowned amusingly at Shayera's half dead state, clearly enjoying the party girl's downfall.

The redhead just made a wailing noise from deep down her throat that was reminiscent of a cat in labor, while pulling the hoodie over her head, shielding her poor eyes against the evil sunlight. The trio couldn't help but laugh before Bruce began a story about his own drunken adventure.

"And that's how I ended up with a pet red robin." He finished, watching as Diana's body shook as she laughed into her hands. The sound was like wind chimes on a breezy autumn day.

"I swear, the image of this man stumbling in, completely hammered, holding a small bird in his hands was the funniest thing I had ever seen." John chimed in, breathless from laughter, "He kept blabbering about the bird having a broken wing, and that, and I quote, 'This robin is my son now.'" They all exploded in laughter again.

Finally regaining some composure, Diana giggled as the man in question shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a compassionate man, what can I say." She couldn't help but notice how absolutely handsome a relaxed Bruce Wayne was. There was a twinkle in his cerulean blue eyes, reminding her of the alluring Adriatic Sea of her childhood. She was so accustomed to watching the brooding and calculating quarterback on the field, that it was easy to forget he was just a 20-years-old college kid. Everybody expected so much of him, that sometimes he forgot, too.

"Ah shit, it's eleven thirty already!?" Shayera shot out of her seat, almost knocking the chair over. "Let's go John. We got Econ at twelve and I need to change."

The army man was in the middle of shoving his face with a grilled chicken sandwich. He looked up confusingly and let out a muffled "Whah doeth that have to do with…" Two pairs of green eyes met.

"Shit, you're right. See you kids later." The not-couple hurriedly gathered their belongings and quickly left the dining hall.

 _Damn you to hell Shayera Hol!_ Diana was now left alone with a guy she more or less ditched last night. Probably more more.

"So how was the rest of your night?" He questioned, resting his face in his hand, gazing at her pretty profile.

Diana turned her head and met his eyes. "Past Diana had fun, present Diana, not so much. How about you?"

"I had fun, too. Until past Diana straight up ditched me."

 _Wow, that was direct._ She scoffed, "Who am I to separate you from your adoring fans? Besides, they were five seconds away from physically pushing me out. I thought I'd just stay out of harm's way." She grinned innocently. Her pride would not allow for any fault to be admitted.

Bruce couldn't help but smile back, "Fair enough. Would present Diana like to make it up to me?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "Make up how?" She asked with a quizzically raised eyebrow. He was fully facing her now, and leaning closer until their bodies were almost touching. _Is it getting hot in here?_

"Well," Bruce began, his voice low, "I have an Italian test coming up, and I was wondering if you could tutor me?" That was not what she expected.

"Uhm, sure. Wait how did you know I speak Italian?"

His eyes lit up rather mischievously, turning a lighter shade of azure. "You told me, remember? A week ago today." Oh right, the party. The party where they had actually talked for two hours before sucking faces. An awkward laugh was her only reply.

Bruce checked his phone and began getting up. "Sunday afternoon works for you?" He was standing upright now. His impressive height and frame towering over her.

"Yeah, I can meet you around 4pm."

"Great, then it's a date." Alarms blared in her brain and her eyes widened. _Code red! Code red!_ "Wait, no. That's not what I meant. Just that we have an appointment at four. Not an appointment, like…." She found his sudden flustered state incredibly endearing, and encouraging.

Diana smiled amicably, "I know what you meant. We have a study session together, that's all."

"Yes, that!" He was scratching his head now, looking like a kid who had just been caught eating ice cream before dinner. "I have class now, but I'll see you Sunday."

"Yes, you will." And with that, she was now the one watching him walking away. An army of butterflies was flying, soaring, and performing pirouettes in her stomach. Diana had to turn her head towards the window so Bruce couldn't see her grinning from ear to ear. Little did she know, he was, too. 

**A/N:** Thank you for the love and encouragement! Kudos to you if you catch the little references in this chapter. Please read and review. Your words mean so much to me. Feel free to recommend any theme or activity you would like to see me tackle :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – The Interview**

Lois Lane tightened the straps of her backpack as she got off the bus in front of Dawson Dormitory, where her interview was about to take place. It was a gloomy Saturday. Gone was the warm spring sun, in its place were waves of depressing grey clouds and sprinkling rain. It was cold, rainy, and only 7:45am. On top of that, Lois didn't have time to pick up Starbucks to battle the drowsiness still engulfing her brain and limbs. In short, she was pissed. _Such is the life of a journalist,_ Lois gingerly told herself.

She went up to the door and started pushing. The handle merely rattled. So she tried pulling, no luck either. _You have got to be shitting me._ Lois knew Dawson was exclusive to athletes, but she didn't think it would be _that_ exclusive. Defeated, the aspiring journalist leaned her forehead against the door and sighed. Then she heard a polite cough and noticed a rather large shadow on the glass.

"You're Lois Lane, right?" The mysterious figure spoke with a slight Midwestern accent behind her.

Lois turned around to the smiling face of one Clark Kent himself, wearing a plaid shirt and a pair of worn-out faded jeans. She almost didn't recognize him with the huge horn-rimmed glasses adorning his face. _Huh, didn't know he wore glasses. That's kinda cute._

"That would be me. Clark, right?" She extended her right hand and he shook it with a firm grip, "Nice to meet you."

His smile never faltered, "Nice to meet you, too. Now let me get this door for you." Clark stepped beside her and punch in a four-digit code before putting his thumb on the scanner. The system beeped and unlocked the door with a loud clacking noise. He immediately took hold of the handle and held the door open for her, like a true gentleman.

Once inside, Lois was taken aback by the structure. A giant lobby welcomed the students, lit up by a crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. As they walked down a hallway, Lois couldn't help but be wide-eyed at all the sleek leather furniture and contemporary art paintings adorning the walls. "This is a dorm?" She asked out loud without even realizing.

Her companion chuckled, "I know, right. We didn't have anything this fancy back in Smallville. In here, please." He said, opening the door to what looked like a common entertainment area. There were four flat-screen TVs on each wall, a red velvet top pool table, several sofas, recliners and a fully equipped kitchen. Complete with a, Lois's eyes lit up marvelously, a state-of-the-art coffee machine!

"Go ahead, it's for everyone." Clark gestured to the apple of her eyes.

"Oh thank God," Lois groaned and almost ran to the stainless-steel appliance, quickly pushing a button to grind the medium Pike roast. The machine whirred smoothly and soon enough, the area was blessed with the heavenly aroma of fresh coffee. She watched as Kent effortlessly opened the high cupboards that her modest height definitely wouldn't be able to reach and pulled out two cups. The boy was tall, and extremely well-built. But his frame was somewhat hidden behind the thick and slightly oversized shirt. She wondered if the clothing choice was deliberate.

Armed with steaming delicious beverages, cream and sugar for her, and black for him, the pair settled down on an insanely comfortable leather sofa. _7:58am,_ Lois glanced at her watch, _right on time._

"First of all, thank you so much for doing this with me," she smiled and pulled the laptop from her backpack. "I know you're not one for interviews, but I think it's great that everybody can get to know our student-athletes a little bit better. Beyond the jerseys and stadium, that is." She opened the computer and pulled up a list of questions.

"Ok, let's start with the basics. What's your name and where are you from?"

"My name is Clark Jonathan Kent," there were only the sound of his voice and her perfectly manicured fingers typing away on the keyboard, "and I'm from Smallville, Kansas."

"What year are you and what's your major?" Lois continued.

"I'm a sophomore majoring in Journalism." He answered before taking a sip of his coffee.

Lois looked up from the screen in surprise and smiled brightly, "You're a Journalism major? Me, too!" Her grin caught him off-guard. He found himself rather fond of the way her entire face lit up with enthusiasm, eyes twinkling with excitement and intelligence. _Wow, her eyes are actually violet. That's… incredible._

He laughed, fixing the thick frame glasses, and replied, "I'd figured. How long have you been writing for the _Black & Gold_?" It was his turn to ask questions now.

"Let's see. I started school in the spring so a year and a half. Wait, you actually read the school paper?"

"Uhm I'm a Journalism major, remember?" He amusingly scoffed, "Not reading the single most relevant news source to my life would be a sin. I really enjoyed the exposé you did on unfair benefits student workers were receiving."

Now Lois was truly impressed. Not only was Kent extremely cute, he also had good taste in literature. Confidence and pride surging in her bloodstream, Lois sat upright and puffed her chest.

"Why thank you! I don't think the school liked it as much as you did. But as far as I know, a bunch of benefits were added to the preexisting and future contracts."

That was an understatement. Lois winced at the memories of being summoned to the Dean's office several times, and repeatedly scolded, if not threatened to take the piece down before her fate at the university suffered. But she was a Lane, and Lanes did not back down from anything, period. Dean McGowan walked into his office one day to find Lois already waiting, and smirking. Sitting next to her was one General Samuel Lane, who politely suggested that if the Dean and the school board did not take appropriate actions to rectify the problems his daughter had _graciously_ brought to their attention, they would have Gotham's DA breathing down their neck for eternity. Lois was never one to involved her daddy in any personal business, but she wasn't willing to take risks on the full-ride education she had worked her ass off for.

"Uhm, this is off the record," she took her hands off the keyboard, "but why are you wearing those glasses? I can see that the lenses don't have prescriptions."

The linebacker's eyes widened in surprise, "Fashion statement?" Her reply was a bored look that screamed ' _How dumb do you think I am?'_

Kent looked down on his lap and started taking his glasses off. With the glare from the lenses gone now, Lois can clearly see the darkened blue eyes and thick, mahogany color eyebrows. Even his nose was more prominent, tall, slender, and slightly crooked. Probably from being broken on the field one too many times.

"I don't want to sound like a douche," he was scratching his head now, a faint pink crept up his well-defined cheekbones previously hidden by the large frame, "but I just didn't want people to recognize me or treat me differently. That's why I never wear school stuff outside of practice and games either."

Holy shit, Lois just wanted to give this 6-foot-5 puppy a hug now. "Wow, you're adorable," she exclaimed, which only made his blush even redder.

"Do they really work that well? I mean your face is plastered on the jumbotron on every gameday, and then some!"

Having regained his composure, Clark sat back against the chair and put the glasses back on before smirking, "You'd be surprised."

By the time the interview was wrapping up, almost two hours and three cups of coffee had passed. Residential athletes were filtering in and out the kitchen for coffee, juices, and simple chit chat. Most of whom had their own anecdote, hilarious, embarrassing, heartwarming, to share once finding out their favorite linebacker was being interviewed.

' _Clark Kent is loved by everyone that knows him, and deservedly so.'_ Lois typed in the last observation before saving the document and folded her laptop.

"That's a wrap! Again, thank you so much for letting me interview you."

Clark extended a hand to help her get up from the couch, which she took gladly. Two hours of sitting in the same position cross-legged position had basically numbed her legs. She had been so engulfed in talking to him that the discomfort didn't even register in her mind.

"The pleasure's all mine Ms. Lane. I'll see you out."

She couldn't help but grin at his politeness, "Ms. Lane?" she repeated incredulously, "You can take the boy out of Kansas but not the other way around, huh?"

He laughed breezily, "No ma'am. Ma Kent would have a fit."

Lois swung the backpack over her shoulders and they started heading for the exit, down the brightly lit hallway and back to the lobby. Several passed by that Lois recognized. Wally West on the track team, whom she knew through Diana. Selina Kyle, the acrobatic golden girl. John Jones, the basketball player. Oliver Queen, the archer. And…

"Bruce, what's up?" Clark greeted happiness. The intended subject of his cheerfulness was as sunny as the monochromatic weather outside.

"Boy scout," the quarterback gruffly acknowledged, "don't be late for practice." And with that, he was gone, disappeared into the common area. It was unmistakable the way people seemed to scurry out of Wayne's way. The sound of merry chatter coincidentally reduced considerably.

"What the hell is up his ass?" Lois wondered out loud.

"Ah he's just kind of grumpy and scary before practice time. All the plays he has to memorize and coordinate, ya know?" Clark merely shrugged his shoulders.

"But you guys practice all the time." Lois stated with a frown.

"Haha, yeah we do." There wasn't really humor in his laugh, but rather a sense of sarcastic acceptance.

"Jokes asides, Bruce was one of the reasons I committed to the Knights." The farm boy smiled at his interviewer's startled expression. "Everybody had that look when I told them, too. We attended the same training camp junior year," he explained, "and worked _incredibly_ well together. Even though I'm pretty sure he hated me at first." Clark laughed out loud at the memory. _Ah, good times._ Meanwhile, Lois was drinking up his words with renewed curiosity.

"Anyway, they called us ' _Dynamic Duo'_ and _'_ _World's Finest'_ and all that. When the time came to choose colleges, Bruce knew I was torn and convinced me to go to GU with him. And I gotta say, I think I made the right choice." His words hung in the air as his eyes bore into hers. For the briefest of moment, Lois was positively lost in the ocean of his gaze. Then as sudden as it came, the spell broke when a familiar voice growled down the hall, "Kent! Practice!"

"I think that's my cue to leave. I'll text you when the story is posted. And don't worry, I'll leave the bit about the glasses and your pet red robin out. Or is it Wayne's?"

Clark reached for the door and beamed proudly, "We're co-parents."

 **A/N:** I didn't think I was able to get this chapter up this quickly but it was almost like the story wrote itself. I know it didn't have any BMWW, but I wanted to establish some more characters and continued with the interview bit from the first chapter. Grumpy Bruce also got a short appearance.

As always, please read and review. Even just a word or two from you guys make my day!


End file.
